The Vampire Diaries #9: Moonsong (The Hunters #2)（2012）

Chapter Twenty

This is way worse than the obstacle course, thought Matt.

And building a house out of newspaper. And the firewalk.

This is definitely the worst pledge event yet.

He twisted the toothbrush in his hand to real y get into the little niche running along the bottom of the paneling on the Vitale Society's pledge room walls. The toothbrush came out black with ancient dirt and dangling cobwebs, and Matt grimaced in disgust. His back was already sore from hunching over.

"How's it going, soldier?" Chloe asked, squatting down next to him, a dripping sponge in one hand.

"Honestly, I'm not sure how scrubbing out this room is going to help us develop honor and leadership and all the stuff Ethan keeps talking about," Matt said. "I think this might just be a way to save a couple of bucks on a cleaning service."

"Well, they say cleanliness is next to godliness," she reminded him. Chloe laughed. He really liked her laugh. It was sort of bubbly and silvery.

Internal y, he gave himself a little eye roll . Bubbly and silvery. She had a nice laugh, was al he meant.

They'd been spending a lot of time together since Christopher's death. Matt had felt like nothing could be as bad as living with al of Christopher's stuff when Christopher himself was gone, but then Chris's parents came and packed it up, gently patting Matt on the back as if he deserved some kind of sympathy when they had lost their only son. And with just empty space where Christopher's things had been, everything was a million times worse.

Meredith, Bonnie, and Elena had tried to comfort him.

They wanted so badly for him to be okay again that he'd felt guilty he wasn't, making it harder for him to be around them.

Chloe had taken to coming by the room, hanging out with him or getting him to come to the cafeteria or wherever with her, keeping him in touch with the world when he felt like locking himself away. There was something so easy about her. Elena, the only girl he'd ever loved - before now, part of him whispered - was much more work to be around.

Inside, he flinched at his own disloyalty to Elena, but it was true.

Now he was starting to wake up and take an interest in things again. And he kept noticing with fresh surprise the cute dimple Chloe had in her right cheek, or how shiny her curly dark hair was, or how graceful and pretty her hands were despite the fact that they were often stained with paint.

So far, though, they were just friends. Maybe ... maybe it was time to change that.

Chloe snapped her fingers in front of his face, and Matt realized he had been staring at her. "You all right, buddy?" she asked, a little frown wrinkling her forehead, and Matt had to restrain himself from kissing her right then.

"Yeah, just spacing out," he said, feeling a flush creep over his cheeks. He was smiling like a goof, he knew.

"Want to help with these walls?"

"Sure, why not?" Chloe answered. "I'll soap down the wall part, and you keep doing whatever you're doing there with that little toothbrush."

They worked companionably together for a while, Chloe now and then accidental y-on-purpose dripping soapy water onto the top of Matt's head.

As they worked further along the paneling, the niche under the baseboard got deeper, until it was not so much a niche as a gap. Matt slid the toothbrush underneath to scrub - man, but it got grimy down there - and felt something shift.

"There's something under here," he told Chloe, pressing his hand flat against the floor and working his fingers into the gap. He slid his hands and the toothbrush around, trying to shimmy whatever was down there toward them, but he couldn't quite get a grip on it.

"Look," said Chloe after a moment, "I think the paneling might slide up here." She wiggled the section of wood until it gave a raucous screech and she was able to work it up.

"Huh," she said, puzzled. "Wow, it's like a secret compartment. Seems like it hasn't been opened for a while, though."

Once she managed to ease the paneling up, they could see the space behind it was small , only a foot or so in height and width and a few inches deep. It was full of cobwebs. Inside was something rectangular, wrapped in a cloth that had probably once been white but was now gray with dust.

"It's a book," Matt said, picking it up. The grime on the outside of the cloth was thick and soft and came away on his hands. Unwrapping it, he found the book inside was clean.

"Wow," Chloe said softly.

It looked old, real y old. The cover was flaking dark leather, and the edges of the pages were rough as if they'd been hand cut instead of by a machine. Tilting the book a little, Matt could see the remains of gilt that must have once been the title, but it was worn away now.

Matt opened it to the middle. Inside, it was handwritten, black ink inscribing neat strong strokes. And total y indecipherable.

"I think it's Latin. Maybe?" said Matt. "Do you know Latin at all ?"

Chloe shook her head. Matt flipped back to the first page, and one word popped out at him. Vitale.

"Maybe it's a history of the Vitale Society," Chloe said.

"Or ancient secrets of the founders. Cool! We should give it to Ethan."

"Yeah, sure," Matt said, distracted. He turned a few more pages, and the ink changed from black to a dark brown. It looks like dried blood, he thought, and shuddered, then pushed the image away. It was just some kind of old ink, faded brown with time.

One word he recognized, written three - no, four - times on the page: Mort. That meant death, didn't it? Matt traced the word with his finger, frowning. Creepy.

"I'll show it to Ethan," Chloe said, jumping up and taking the book from him. She crossed the room and interrupted Ethan's conversation with another girl. From the other side of the room, Matt watched Ethan's face break into a slow smile as he took the book.

After a few minutes, Chloe returned, grinning. "Ethan was real y excited," she said. "He said he'll tell us all about it after he gets someone to translate the book." Matt nodded. "That's terrific," he said, pushing the last of his unease away. This was Chloe, lively, laughing Chloe, and he would try not to think about death or blood or anything morbid around her. "Hey," he said, pushing away the dark thoughts, focusing on the golden highlights in her dark hair. "Are you going to the party at McAllister House tonight?"

Maybe not pulled back, Elena thought, looking critical y at herself in the mirror. She tugged the barrette out of her hair and let her golden locks tumble, sleek and flat-ironed, down around her shoulders. Much better.

She looked good, she noted, running her eyes dispassionately over her reflection. Her strappy short black dress accentuated her rose-petal skin and pale hair, and her dark blue eyes seemed huge.

Without Stefan, though, what did it matter how she looked?

She watched her own mouth tighten in the mirror as she pushed the thought away. However much she missed the feeling of Stefan's hand in hers, his lips on hers, however much she wanted to be with him, it was impossible for now.

She couldn't be Katherine. And her pride wouldn't let her just mope around, either. It's not forever, she told herself grimly.

Bonnie came up and threw her arm around Elena's shoulders, regarding them both in the mirror. "We clean up nice, don't we?" she asked cheerfully. "Ready to go?"

"You do look amazing," Elena said, looking at Bonnie with affection. The shorter girl was practical y glowing with excitement - eyes sparkling, smile bright, cheeks flushed, mane of red hair flying out seemingly with a life of its own -

and her short blue dress and strappy high-heeled shoes were adorable. Bonnie's smile got bigger.

"Let's get going," Meredith said, al business. She was sleek and practical in jeans and a soft fitted gray shirt that matched her eyes. It was hard to know what Meredith was thinking, but Elena had overheard her murmuring to Alaric on the phone late at night. She figured that Meredith, at heart, might not be into the party either.

Outside, people walked quickly in large, silent groups, glancing around nervously as they went. No one lingered, no one was alone.

Meredith stopped midstride and stiffened, suddenly aware of a potential threat. Elena followed her gaze. She was wrong: one person lingered alone. Damon was sitting on a bench outside their dorm, his face tipped toward the sky as if he was basking in the sun despite the darkness of the evening.

"What do you want, Damon?" Meredith said, warily. Her voice wasn't actual y rude - they'd gotten past that, working together this summer - but it wasn't friendly, and Elena could feel her bristling beside her.

"Elena, of course," Damon said lazily, rising and smoothly taking Elena's arm.

Bonnie looked back and forth between them, puzzled. "I thought you weren't going to spend time with either of them for a while," she said to Elena.

Damon spoke quietly into Elena's ear. "It's about the Vitale Society. I've got a lead."

Elena hesitated. She hadn't told her friends about the hints she and Damon had found that the Vitale Society might be more than a myth, or that they might be connected to her parents in some way. There wasn't real y anything much to go on yet, and she didn't feel quite ready to talk about the possibility that her parents might have been mixed up in some kind of dark secret or how she felt, seeing the images of them when they were young.

Making up her mind, she turned to Meredith and Bonnie. "I've got to go with Damon for a minute. It's important. I'll explain it to you guys later. See you at the party in a little bit."

Meredith frowned but nodded, and she steered Bonnie toward McAllister House. As they went, Elena could hear Bonnie saying, "But wasn't the whole point..." Keeping his hand tucked firmly under Elena's arm, Damon led her in the opposite direction. "Where are we going?" she asked, feeling too aware of the softness of Damon's skin and the strength of his grip.

"I saw a girl wearing one of those pins from the photo," Damon answered. "I followed her to the library, but once she got inside, she just disappeared. I looked everywhere for her. Then, an hour later, she came out the library doors again. Remember when I said we needed to look for answers somewhere other than the library?" He smiled. "I was wrong. There's something going on in there."

"Maybe you just didn't see her?" Elena wondered aloud.

"It's a big library, she could have been tucked away in a study carrel or something."

"I would have found her," Damon said briefly. "I'm good at finding people." His teeth shone white for a moment under the streetlights.

The problem was that the library was so normal. Once they were inside, Elena looked around at the gray-carpeted floors, the beige chairs, the rows and rows of bookshelves, the buzzing fluorescent lights. It was a place to study. It didn't look like any secrets were hidden here.

"Upstairs?" she suggested.

They took the stairs rather than the elevator and worked their way down from the top floor. Going from floor to floor, they found ... nothing. People reading and taking notes.

Books, books, and more books. In the basement, there was a room of vending machines and small tables for study breaks. Nothing unexpected.

Elena paused in a hall way of administrative offices near the vending machine. "We're not going to find anything," she told Damon. His face twisted in frustration, and she added, "I believe you that there's something going on here, I do, but without any leads, we don't even know what we're looking for yet."

The door behind her, marked Research Office, opened, and Matt came out.

He looked tired, and Elena felt a quick flash of guilt.

After Christopher's death, she and Meredith and Bonnie had meant to stick close to Matt. But he was always busy with football or class and didn't seem to want them around.

She realized with a shock that she hadn't talked to him in days.

"Oh, hey, Elena," Matt said, looking startled. "Are you going to the party tonight?" He greeted Damon with an awkward nod.

"Mutt," Damon acknowledged, giving a half smile, and Matt rolled his eyes.

As they chatted about the party and classes and Bonnie's new semiboyfriend, Elena cataloged her impressions of Matt. Tired, yes - his eyes were a little bloodshot, and there was grimness to his lips that hadn't been there a few weeks ago. But why did he smell so strongly of soap? It wasn't like he was particularly clean, she thought, inspecting a grubby trail tracing down Matt's cheek to his neck. It looked like something had been dripped on his head. It was almost like he had been cleaning something. Something really dirty.

Struck by a new thought, she glanced at his chest.

Surely he wouldn't be wearing one of the V pins? As if aware of what she was wondering, Matt pulled his jacket more tightly around him.

"What were you doing in that office?" she asked him abruptly.

"Uh." Matt's face was blank for half a second, and then he glanced up at the door, at the sign saying Research Office. "Research, of course," he said. "I've got to go," he added. "I'll catch you at the party later, okay, Elena?" He had half turned away, when Elena impulsively put out her hand to catch his arm. "Where have you been, Matt?" she asked. "I've hardly seen you lately." Matt grinned, but he didn't quite meet her eyes.

"Football ," he said. "College ball 's a big deal." He gently pulled away from her restraining hand. "Later, Elena. Damon."

They watched him walk away, and then Damon nodded toward the door Matt had come out of. "Shall we?" he said.

"Shall we what?" Elena asked, puzzled.

"Oh, like that wasn't suspicious," Damon said. He put his hand on the knob, and Elena heard the lock snap as he forced it open.

Inside was a very boring room. A desk, a chair, a small rug on the floor.

Maybe a little too boring?

"A research office without books? Or even a computer?" Elena asked. Damon cocked his head to one side, considering, then, with a swift movement, pulled aside the rug.

Below it was the clear outline of a trapdoor. "Bingo," Elena breathed. She stepped forward, already bending down to try and pry it open, but Damon pulled her back.

"Whoever is using this could still be down there," he said. "Matt just left, and I doubt he was alone." Matt. Whatever was going on, Matt knew about it.

"Maybe I should talk to him," Elena said.

Damon frowned. "Let's wait until we know what we're dealing with," he said. "We don't know what Matt's involvement is. This could be dangerous for you." He had taken hold of her arm again and was pulling her gently, steadily out of the room. "We'll come back later." Elena let him lead her away, grappling with what he'd said. Dangerous? she thought. Surely Matt wouldn't be doing anything that would be a danger to Elena?

Chapter Twenty-One

"What's taking so long?" Bonnie asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Stop being so hyper," Meredith said absently, craning her neck to see over the crowd outside McAllister. There was some kind of bottleneck by the entrance to the dorm that was slowing everyone down. She shivered in her thin top; it was starting to get cold at night.

"Security's at the door," Bonnie said as they got closer to the entrance. "Are they carding people to get in?" Her voice was shrill with outrage.

"They're just checking that you have a student ID," someone in the crowd told her, "to make sure you're not a crazed killer from off campus."

"Yeah," his friend said. "Only on-campus killers allowed." A couple of people laughed nervously. Bonnie fell silent, biting her lip, and Meredith shivered again, this time for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold.

When they final y got to the front of the line, the security guards glanced quickly at their IDs and waved them through. Inside, it was crowded and music was pumping, but no one really seemed to be in a partying mood. People stood in small groups, talking in undertones and glancing around nervously. The presence of the security guards had reminded everyone of the danger lurking unseen on campus. Anyone could be responsible, even someone in the room at that very moment.

As she thought about that, Meredith's view of the room shifted, the other students around her changing from innocent to sinister. That curly-headed frat boy in the corner - was he eyeing his pretty companion with something more than simple lust? The faces of strangers twisted viciously, and Meredith took a deep breath, calming herself until everyone looked normal again.

Samantha was coming toward her, a red plastic cup in her hand. "Here," she said, handing Meredith a soda.

"Everyone's on edge tonight, it's creepy. We'd better stay alert and not drink," she said, already on the same wavelength as Meredith.

Bonnie squeezed Meredith's arm in fareWelland took off into the crowd to look for Zander. Meredith sipped her drink and warily eyed the strangers surrounding her.

Despite the general malaise hanging over the party, some people were so wrapped up in each other that they were managing to have a good time anyway. She watched a couple kiss, as fully focused on each other as if there was no one else in the world who mattered. They weren't worrying about the attacks and disappearances on campus, and Meredith found herself feeling a sharp pang of envy. She missed Alaric, missed him with a bone-deep longing that stayed with her, even when she wasn't consciously thinking about him.

"The killer could be right here at this party," Samantha said unhappily. "Shouldn't we be able to sense something?

How can we protect anyone if we don't know who we're up against?"

"I know," said Meredith. The crowd parted, and she saw a face she hadn't expected: Stefan, leaning against the far wall . His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he glanced past her with a hopeful half smile already forming on his lips.

Poor guy. No matter what Meredith thought about Elena's decision to take a break - and, for the record, Meredith thought that Elena was doing the right thing; her entanglement with both Salvatore brothers meant that they had all been heading for trouble - she couldn't help pitying him. Stefan had the look of someone who was experiencing the same sharp pang of loneliness and desire as Meredith did when she thought of Alaric. It must be worse for him, because Elena was so close and because she chose to separate herself from him against his wishes.

"Excuse me for a second," she said to Samantha, and went to Stefan.

He greeted her politely and asked about her classes and her hunter training, although she could tel that he was burning to talk about Elena. He had such good manners, always.

"She's not here yet, but she's definitely coming," she told him, interrupting one of his pleasantries. "She had something to do first." His face bloomed into a smile of grateful relief, and then he frowned.

"Elena's coming here alone?" he asked. "After all the attacks?"

"No," Meredith reassured him. She hadn't thought of this, and she didn't think she should tell him Elena was with Damon. "She's with other people," she settled for saying and was glad that her answer seemed to satisfy him.

Meredith sipped her drink and hoped grimly that Elena had the sense not to bring Damon to the party.

Matt spotted Chloe from across the room. Tonight was the night, he decided. Enough playing around, enough exchanging glances and gentle, platonic hugs and hand squeezes. He wanted to know if she felt the same way he did, if she felt like maybe there was something between them worth exploring.

She was talking to someone, a guy he recognized from Vitale, and her curly brown hair shone softly in the light from overhead. There was so much life in Chloe: the way she laughed, the way she listened to what the guy was saying, attentive and involved, her face focused.

Matt wanted to kiss her, more than anything.

So he started working his way across the room toward her, nodding at people he knew as he passed them. He didn't want to look too uncool and eager, not like he was making a beeline for her, but he didn't want to stop and lose her in the crowd, either.

Matt.

Matt jerked as if he'd been stung as the silent greeting hit him. Twisting around to see where it was coming from, he found Stefan standing right behind him and frowned irritably at him. He hated when Stefan got into his head like that.

"You could have just said hi," he told Stefan, as mildly as he could. "You know, out loud."

Stefan ducked his head apologetically, his cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was rude of me, but I just wanted to get your attention. It's so loud in here." He gestured around, and Matt wondered, as he sometimes had before, how the life of a modern teenager seemed to the vampire. Stefan had experienced more than Matt probably ever would, but the loud rock music and the press of bodies all around him seemed to make him uncomfortable, showing the cracks in his disguise as someone young. He tried hard, for Elena's sake, Matt knew.

"I'm waiting for Elena," Stefan said. "Have you seen her?" The lines of his face were anxious, and, just like that, Matt's picture of Stefan as someone too old, too out of place here, snapped. Stefan looked achingly young, lonely and worried.

"Yeah," Matt said. "I just saw her at the library. She said she was coming here later." He bit his tongue to keep from adding that he'd seen her there with Damon, of all people.

Matt wasn't quite sure what was going on between Elena and the brothers, but he figured Stefan didn't need to know that Elena and Damon were together.

"I'm supposed to be staying away from her," Stefan confided sadly. "She feels like she's coming between Damon and me, and she wants some time for us all to work things out before the two of us can be together again." He glanced up at Matt, almost beseechingly. "But I thought since there are so many people here, it isn't like we'd be alone."

Matt took a swallow of his beer, his mind working furiously. Now he knew he'd been right not to mention that Damon and Elena had been together. What game was Elena playing now?

It was a shock, too, to realize how far out of the loop he'd gotten. When did all this happen? Since Christopher's death, he'd been avoiding his friends, spending so much time focused on the Vitale Society that he missed this big development in their lives. What else was he missing?

Stefan was still looking at him as if he was seeking some kind of approval, and Matt rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully, then offered, "You should talk to her. Let her know how unhappy you are without her. Love is worth taking the chance."

As Stefan nodded, considering, Matt's eyes sought out Chloe in the crowd again. The guy she'd been talking to was gone, and she was alone for the moment, biting her lip as she looked around the room. Matt was about to excuse himself and head toward her when another voice spoke in his ear.

"Hi, Matt, how's it going?" Ethan came up beside him, his golden brown eyes focused on Matt's. Matt felt himself straightening up and pulling back his shoulders, trying to look loyal and honorable, a promising candidate, everything the Vitale wanted him to be. Matt saw this reaction to Ethan in the other pledges as Well: whatever Ethan wanted them to be or do, they wanted, too. Some people were just natural leaders, he guessed.

They chatted for a minute, not about the Vitale Society, of course, not in front of Stefan, but simple friendly stuff about football and classes and the music that was playing, and then Ethan turned the warmth of his smile on Stefan.

"Oh, uh, Ethan Crane, Stefan Salvatore," Matt introduced them, adding, "Stefan and I went to high school together." Stefan and Ethan started making conversation, and Matt looked for Chloe again. She wasn't in the last place he had seen her, and he started to panic, until he found her again in the crowd, moving to the music.

"I can't help noticing just a slight accent, Stefan," Ethan was saying. "Are you from Italy originally?" Stefan smiled shyly. "Most people don't hear it anymore," he said. "My brother and I, we left Italy a long time ago."

"Oh, does your brother go here, too?" Ethan asked, and Matt decided the two of them seemed happy enough together and that it was okay for him to leave now.

"I'll catch up with you guys later," he said. Taking another swallow of beer, Matt strode through the crowd, straight toward Chloe. Her eyes were shining, her dimples were showing, and he knew the time was right. Like he had told Stefan, love was worth taking the chance.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bonnie knew the minute that Zander and his friends came into the party, because the noise level went way up.

Honestly, Zander was calmer than his friends, sort of, at least around Bonnie, but as a group, they were definitely wild.

It was kind of irritating, actually.

But when Zander appeared next to her - hip-checking Marcus into a wall on his way - and gave her his long, slow smile, her toes curled inside her high-heeled shoes and she forgot all about being annoyed.

"Hi!" she said. "Is everything okay?" He cocked an eyebrow at her inquiringly. "I mean, you said something came up with your family, and that's why you've been ... busy."

"Oh, yeah." Zander bent his head down to talk to her, and his warm breath ghosted across Bonnie's neck as he sighed. "My family's pretty complicated," he said. "I wish sometimes that things were easier." He looked sad, and Bonnie impulsively took his hand, twining her fingers through his.

"Well, what's wrong?" she asked, striving for a tone of understanding and reliability. A dependable girlfriend tone.

"Maybe I can help. You know, a fresh ear and all that." Zander frowned and bit his lip. "I guess it's like... I have responsibilities. My whole family is in a position where there are promises we've made and sort of things we have to take care of. And sometimes what I want to do and what I have to do don't line up."

"Could you be any more vague?" Bonnie asked teasingly, and Zander huffed a half laugh. "Seriously, what do you mean? What do you have to do? What don't you want to do?"

Zander looked down at her for a moment and then his smile widened. "Come on," he said, tugging her hand.

Bonnie went with him, weaving their way through the party and up the stairs. Zander seemed to know where he was going; he turned a couple of corners, then pushed open a door.

Inside was a dorm common room: a couple of ratty couches, a banged-up table. Someone's art project, a large canvas covered with splotches of paint, leaned against the wall .

"Do you live in this dorm?" she asked Zander.

"No," he said, his eyes on her mouth. He pulled her toward him and rested his hands on her hips. And then he kissed her.

It was the most amazing kiss Bonnie had ever experienced. Zander's lips were so soft, yet firm, and there were little fireworks going off all over Bonnie's body. She lifted her hand and cupped it against his cheek, feeling the strong bones of his face and the slight scratch of stubble against her palm.

Once again, she felt as she had during their first date, standing on the roof, when it had been like she was flying.

So free, and with a wild kind of joy zinging through her. She slid her hand to the back of his neck, feeling Zander's fine pale blond hair brush softly against her fingers.

When the kiss ended, neither of them spoke for a moment, they just leaned against each other, breathing hard. Their faces were so close, and Zander's brilliant blue eyes were fixed on hers, warm and intent.

"Anyway, that's what I want to do, since you asked. Do you" - his voice cracked - "do you want to go back to the party now?"

"No," said Bonnie, "not yet." And this time, she kissed him.

"Oh, thank God," Chloe said when Matt came up to her. "I was beginning to feel like the biggest wall flower." She crinkled her nose appealingly at him. Her nose, which tilted up just a little, was spattered with freckles, and she had a pretty cupid's bow of a mouth. He wanted to tug gently on the soft brown ringlets of her curls, just to see them straighten and then spring back into shape.

"What do you mean?" he said, pulling himself back together, although he was painful y aware that he sounded half-witted. "A wall flower?"

"Oh, just..." She waved one hand vaguely at the crowd.

"There's hardly anyone I know here besides you and Ethan.

This whole party's completely stuffed with freshmen." Matt's heart sank. He had forgotten that Chloe was a junior. It shouldn't be a big deal, real y, should it? But she sounded like she thought freshmen were beneath her, or something. Disdainful, that was the word he was looking for to describe her tone.

"I thought the party seemed okay," he said weakly.

Chloe pursed her lips teasingly, then socked him gently on the arm. "Well," she said softly, "there's only enough room for one freshman in my life. Right, Matt?" That was more of a hopeful sign. The problem was, Matt realized, that his only dating experience had been in asking out girls who he either didn't real y care about, but was just thinking of as potential dates for dances or whatever, or who were Elena. Who, yes, he cared tremendously about, but who he knew for long enough and Wellenough that he could tell she was going to say yes.

Still , he thought he could see an opening here.

"Chloe," he said, "I was wondering if you would - " Matt broke off as Ethan joined them, smiling widely. For the first time, Matt felt a flash of irritation toward him. Ethan was so smart with people. Couldn't he see he was interrupting a moment here?

"I liked your friend Stefan," Ethan told Matt. "He seemed very sophisticated for a freshman, very Wellspoken. Do you think it's because he's European?"

Matt only shrugged in response, and Ethan turned to Chloe.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, putting an arm around her and kissing her lightly on the lips.

And yeah, wow, maybe Ethan had realized he was interrupting a moment. It wasn't a long kiss, but there was definitely a possessive air about it, and about his arm flung across Chloe's shoulders. When it ended, Chloe smiled up at Ethan, breathless, and Ethan's eyes flicked to Matt, just for a second.

Matt wanted to fold right over and sink into the sticky, beer-stained floor beneath his feet. But instead he eked out a smile of his own and tipped his beer to Ethan.

Because Chloe - adorable, sweet, funny, easygoing Chloe - had a boyfriend. He ought to have anticipated that he wouldn't be the only one who saw how amazing she was. And Matt would have backed off no matter who Chloe's boyfriend was. He didn't want to be that guy who sleazed al over other people's relationships; he never had been.

But since Chloe's boyfriend was Ethan? Ethan, the Vitale Society leader, the one who had made Matt feel like he was special, like he could be the best? Since it was Ethan, Matt was just going to have to grit his teeth and ignore that hollow feeling in his chest. He was going to be strong and keep himself from even thinking about what he wished could have been with Chloe.

There were some lines he just couldn't cross. Ever.

Chapter Twenty-Three
  
"I don't know how it got so late," Elena said for the third time as they hurried down the path by the quad. "Bonnie and Meredith are probably worried about me."

"They know you're with me," Damon said, pacing along unruffled beside her.

"I don't think they'll find that comforting," Elena said, and bit her tongue as Damon shot her an expressive look.

"After all the time we've spent fighting side by side, they still don't trust me?" he said silkily. "I'd be terribly hurt. If I cared what they thought."

"I don't mean that they think you'd hurt me," Elena said.

"Not anymore. Or that you wouldn't protect me. I guess they worry that you might ... might make a pass at me. Or something."

Damon stopped and looked at her. Then he picked up her hand and held it, running one finger down the inside of her arm, tracing the vein that led from Elena's wrist to her elbow. "And what do you think?" he asked, smiling gently.

Elena snatched her hand back, glaring at him. "Clearly they have a point," she said. "Knock it off. Just friends, remember?"

Sighing deeply, Damon started walking again, and Elena hurried to catch up.

"I'm glad you decided to come to the party with me," she said eventual y. "It'll be fun." Damon shot her a velvet-black glance through his lashes but said nothing.

It was always fun to be with Damon, Elena thought, listening to the clicking of her own heels and watching her shadow grow and disappear as they walked beneath the streetlights. Or at least, it was always fun when Damon was in a good mood and nothing was trying to kill them, two circumstances she wished coincided more often.

Stefan, sweet, darling Stefan, was the love of her life.

She had no doubts about that. But Damon made her feel breathless and excited, swept up in something bigger than herself. Damon made her feel like she was special.

And he was more easygoing than usual tonight. After Matt left, they'd searched the library some more, and then Damon treated her to chips and soda in the basement vending-machine room. They sat at one of the little tables and talked and laughed. It wasn't anything fancy or elegant, nothing like the parties he'd escorted her to in the Dark Dimension, but it was comfortable and fun, and when she looked at her phone, she was startled to see that more than an hour had passed.

And now Damon even volunteered to come to a college keg party. Maybe he was trying to get along with her friends. Maybe they could real y be friends, once things somehow worked out between Stefan and him.

Elena had reached this point in her musings when she suddenly got the unmistakable creepy-crawly feeling that she was being watched. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

"Damon," she said softly. "There's someone watching us."

Damon's pupils dilated as he sniffed the air. Elena could tell that he was sending out questing tendrils of Power, searching for an answering surge, for someone focusing on them.

"Nothing," he said after a moment. He tucked his hand under her arm, pulling her closer. "It could just be your imagination, princess, but we'll be careful." The leather of Damon's jacket was smooth against Elena's side, and she held tightly to him as they stepped out into the road that divided the campus.

Just across from them, a car that had been idling at the curb gunned its engine. Its headlights blazed on, blinding Elena. Damon's arms locked around her waist, squeezing the breath out of her.

The car's tires squealed and it shot toward them. Elena panicked - oh God, oh God, she thought helplessly - and froze. Then she was sailing through the air, Damon holding her so tightly that it hurt.

When they hit the grass on the other side of the road, Damon paused for a moment, adjusting his grip on Elena, and Elena peered back at the car, which had passed where they were standing a moment before and skidded back around in a U-turn. She couldn't make out anything, not what kind of car it was nor anything about the driver; behind the bright lights, it was just a hulking dark shape.

A hulking dark shape that was veering onto the grass and coming back after them. Damon swore and yanked her onward, running rather than flying now, Elena's feet barely touching the ground. Her heart was pounding. She could tell Damon was hampered from using his full speed by keeping Elena close. They dodged around the corner of a building and leaned against its wall , surrounded by bushes.

The car hurtled by, then turned, its wheels leaving long skid marks, and lumbered back to the road.

"We lost him," Elena whispered, panting.

"Annoy anyone lately, princess?" Damon asked, his eyes sharp.

"I should be asking you that," Elena retorted. Then she wrapped her arms around herself. She was so cold suddenly. "Do you think it could have been because of the Vitale Society?" she asked, her voice quavering.

"Something about them and my parents?"

"We don't know who or what could have been on the other side of that trapdoor," Damon replied somberly. "Or maybe Matt..."

"Not Matt," Elena said firmly. "Matt would never hurt me." Damon nodded. "That's true. He's ridiculously honorable, your Matt." He gave her a little wry sideways smile. "And he loves you. Everyone loves you, Elena." He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

"One thing's certain, though. If the driver of that car thought I was human before, he knows differently now." Elena pulled the jacket more tightly around herself. "You saved me," she said in a tiny voice. "Thank you." Damon's eyes were soft as he put his arms around her.

"I will always save you, Elena," he promised. "Don't you know that by now?" His pupils dilated, and he pulled her closer. "I can't lose you," he murmured.

Elena felt like she was falling. The world was being swallowed up in Damon's midnight eyes, and she was being drawn along with it, into the darkness. A tiny part of her said no, but despite it she leaned toward him and met his mouth with hers.

Stefan tapped his fingers against the wall behind him, looked around at all the people jammed too close together: talking, laughing, arguing, drinking, dancing. His skin was crawling with anxiety. Where was she? Matt said he'd seen her at the library more than an hour ago, that she had been planning on coming to the party then.

Making up his mind, Stefan began to push his way toward the exit. Maybe Elena didn't want him in contact with her right now, but people were dying and disappearing. It would be worth it to have her angry with him, as long as he knew that she was okay.

He passed Meredith, deep in conversation with her friend, and said, "I'm going to find Elena." He had the quick impression of her faltering, starting to reach out a hand to stop him, but he left her behind. He pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool night air. Campus security was still by the door checking IDs, but they let him pass without comment, only interested in people trying to come into the party.

Outside, the wind was rushing through the trees overhead and a crescent moon rode high and white above the buildings around him. Stefan sent his Power out around him, feeling for the distinct traces of Elena.

He couldn't sense anything, not yet. There were too many people too close together here, and Stefan could only feel the tangled traces of thousands of humans, their emotions and life force mixing together in one great underlying buzz from which it was impossible for him, at this distance, to pick out any particular individual, even one as singular as Elena.

If he had fed on human blood recently, it would have been easier. Stefan couldn't help thinking longingly of the way that Power had surged through him when he drank regularly from his friends. But that was when Fell 's Church needed his best defense against the kitsune. He wouldn't drink human blood just for pleasure or convenience.

Stefan started walking quickly across the quad, still sending out questing fingers of Power around and ahead of himself. If he couldn't locate Elena that way, he would head for where she was last seen. He hoped that, as he got closer to the library, his Power would pick up some hint of her.

His whole body was thrumming anxiously. What if Elena had been attacked, what if she mysteriously vanished and never returned, leaving him with this strange distance as their last memory of each other? Stefan walked faster.

He was halfway to the library when the distinctive sense of Elena hit him like a punch. Somewhere nearby.

He scanned left and right and then he saw her. A terrible pain shot through his chest, as if he could actual y feel his heart breaking. She was kissing Damon. They were half hidden in the shadows, but their light skin and Elena's blond hair shone. They were focused only on each other, so much so that, despite his Power, Damon wasn't aware of Stefan's presence, not even when he walked right up to them.

"Is this why you wanted to take some time apart, Elena?" Stefan asked, his voice sounding hollow and distant. Finally noticing him, they broke away from each other, Elena's face pale with shock.

"Stefan," she said. "Please, Stefan, no, it's not what it looks like." She reached out a hand toward him, then drew it back uncertainly.

Everything seemed so far away to Stefan; he was aware that he was shaking, his mouth was dry, but it felt almost as if he was watching someone else in pain. "I can't do this," he said. "Not again. If I fight for you, I'll just end up destroying us all . Just like with Katherine." Elena was shaking her head back and forth, her hands stretched out toward him imploringly again. "Please, Stefan," she said.

"I can't," Stefan said again, backing away, his voice thin and desperate.

Then, for the first time, he looked at Damon, and a redhot rage slammed into him, overriding the numb distance instantly. "Al you do is take," Stefan told him bitterly. "This is the last time. We're not brothers anymore." Damon's face opened for a split second in dismay, his eyes widening, as if he was about to speak, and then he hardened again, his mouth twisting scornful y, and he jerked his head at Stefan. Very well, that gesture indicated, then get lost.

Stefan stumbled backward, and then he turned and ran, moving with all the supernatural grace and speed at his command, leaving them far behind even as Elena screamed, "Stefan!"

Chapter Twenty-Four

Giggling, Bonnie tripped on her way down the stairs, her foot coming right out of her high-heeled shoe.

"Here you go, Cinderella," Zander said, picking up the shoe and kneeling in front of her. He helped slip her foot back into it, his fingers warm and steady against her instep.

Bonnie gave a mock curtsy, muffling her laughter. "Thank you, m'lord," she said flirtatiously.

She felt fabulous, so silly and happy. It was almost as if she was drunk, but she'd only had a few sips of beer. No, she was drunk. Drunk on Zander, on his kisses, his gentle hands, and his big blue eyes. She took his hand, and he smiled down at her, that long slow smile, and Bonnie just absolutely quivered.

"Seems like the party's wrapping up," she said, as they hit the first floor. It was really getting late, almost two o'clock. There were only a few groups of hard-core partiers left: a bunch of frat boys by the keg, some theater-department girls dancing with great wide swoops of their arms, a couple sitting hand in hand at the bottom of the stairs in deep conversation. Meredith, Stefan, Samantha, and Matt had disappeared, and if Elena had ever shown up, she had left, too. Zander's friends had gone, or been kicked out.

"Good-bye, good-bye," Bonnie caroled to the few people who remained. She hadn't real y gotten a chance to talk to any of them, but they al looked perfectly nice. Maybe next time she went to a party, she'd stay longer and real y bond with people she hadn't met before.

Look at al the new friends her friends had made on campus. Bonnie gave a special wave to a couple of people she'd seen Matt with lately - a shortish guy whose name she thought was Ethan and that girl with the dark curls and dimples. Not freshmen. She loved everyone tonight, but they deserved it most, because they had seen what a wonderful guy Matt was. They waved back at her, a little hesitantly, and the girl smiled, her dimples deepening.

"They seem real y nice," Bonnie told Zander, and he glanced back at them as he opened the door.

"Hmmm," he said noncommittally, and the look in his eyes, just for a minute, made Bonnie shiver.

"Aren't they?" she said nervously. Zander looked away from them, back toward her, and his warm brilliant smile spread across his face. Bonnie relaxed; the coldness she'd seen in Zander's eyes must have been just a trick of the light.

"Of course they are, Bonnie," he said. "I just got distracted for a sec." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. She sighed contentedly, cuddling up against his side.

They walked together companionably for a while. "Look at the stars," Bonnie said softly. The night was clear and the stars hung bright in the sky. "It's because it's starting to get colder at night that we can see them so Well." Zander didn't answer, only made a hmming sound deep in his throat again, and Bonnie glanced up at him through her eyelashes. "Do you want to get breakfast with me in the morning?" she asked. "On Sundays, the cafeteria does make-your-own waffles, with lots of different toppings. Delicious."

Zander was staring off into the distance with that same half-listening expression he had the last time they walked across campus together. "Zander?" Bonnie asked cautiously, and he frowned down at her, biting his lip thoughtful y.

"Sorry," he said. He took his arm off of Bonnie's shoulders and backed away a few steps, smiling stiffly. His whole body was tense, as if he was about to take off running.

"Zander?" she asked again, confused.

"I forgot something," Zander said, avoiding her eyes. "I have to go back to the party."

"Oh. I'll come with you," Bonnie offered.

"No, that's okay." Zander was shifting from foot to foot, glancing over Bonnie's shoulders as if, suddenly, he'd rather be anywhere than with her. Abruptly, he surged forward and kissed her awkwardly, their teeth knocking together, and then he stepped backward and turned, walking in the other direction. His strides lengthened, and soon he was running away from her, disappearing into the night. Again. He didn't look back.

Bonnie, suddenly alone, shivered and looked around, peering into the darkness on all sides. She had been so happy a minute ago, and now she felt cold and dismayed, as if she had been hit with a splash of freezing cold water.

"You have got to be kidding me," she said aloud.

Elena was shaking so hard that Damon was afraid she might just shake herself apart. He wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, and she glanced up at him without real y seeming to see him, her eyes glassy.

"Stefan..." she moaned softly, and Damon had to fight down a sharp stab of irritation. So Stefan was overreacting.

What else was new? Damon was here, Damon was with her and supporting her, and Elena needed to realize that.

He was tempted to grab Elena firmly by the chin and make her really look at him.

In the old days, he would have done just that. Hell , in the old days, he would have sent a blast of Power at Elena until she was docile in his hands, until she didn't even remember Stefan's name. His canines prickled longingly just thinking of it. Her blood was like wine.

Not that expecting Elena to give in to his Power meekly had ever worked particularly Well, he admitted to himself, his mouth curling into a smile.

But he wasn't like that anymore. And he didn't want her that way. He was trying so hard, although he hated to admit it even to himself, to be worthy of Elena. To be worthy of Stefan, even, if it came right down to it. It had been comforting to finally have his baby brother looking at him with something other than hatred and disgust.

Well, that was over. The tentative truce, the beginnings of friendship, the brotherhood, whatever it had been between him and Stefan, was gone.

"Come on, princess," he murmured to Elena, helping her up the stairs toward her door. "Just a little farther." He couldn't be sorry they kissed. She was so beautiful, so alive and vibrant in his arms. And she tasted so good.

And he loved her, he did, as far as his hard heart was capable of it. His mouth curled again, and he could taste his own bitterness. Elena was never going to be his, was she? Even when Stefan turned his back on her, the self-righteous idiot, he was al she thought about. Damon's free hand, the one that wasn't cupping Elena's shoulder protectively, tightened into a fist.

They'd reached Elena's room, and Damon fished in her purse for her keys, unlocking the door for her.

"Damon," she said, turning in the doorway to look him straight in the eyes for the first time since before Stefan caught them kissing. She looked pale still , but resolute, her mouth a straight line. "Damon, it was a mistake." Damon's heart dropped like a stone, but he held her gaze. "I know," he said, his voice steady. "Everything will work out in the end, princess, you'll see." He forced his lips to turn up in a reassuring, supportive smile. The smile of a friend.

Then Elena was gone, the door to her room shutting firmly behind her.

Damon spun in his tracks, cursing, and kicked at the wall behind him. It cracked, and he kicked it again with a sour satisfaction at the feeling of the plaster splitting.

There was a muted grumbling coming from behind the other doors on the floor, and Damon could hear footsteps approaching, someone coming to investigate the noise. If he had to deal with anyone now, he'd probably kill him. That wouldn't be a good idea, no matter how much he might enjoy it for the moment, not with Elena right here.

Launching himself toward an open hall window, Damon smoothly transitioned to a crow in midair. It was a relief to stretch his wings, to pick up the rhythm of flying and feel the breeze against his feathers, lifting and supporting him. He flew through the window with a few strong beats of his wings and flung himself out into the night. Catching the wind, he soared recklessly high despite the darkness of the night. He needed the rush of the wind against his body, needed the distraction.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dear Diary,

I can't believe what a fool I am, what a faithless, worthless fool.

I should never have kissed Damon, or let him kiss me.

The look on Stefan's face when he found us was heartbreaking. His features were so stiff and pale, as if he was made of ice, and his eyes were shining with tears. And then it seemed like a light went out inside him, and he looked at me like he hated me.

Like I was Katherine. No matter what happened between us, Stefan never looked at me like that before.

I won't believe it. Stefan could never hate me.

Every beat of my heart tells me that we belong together, that nothing can tear us apart.

I've been such a fool, and I've hurt Stefan, although that was the one thing I never wanted to do. But this isn't the end for us. Once I apologize and explain what a moment of madness he witnessed, he'll forgive me. Once I can touch him again, he'll see how sorry I am.

It was only the adrenaline from coming so close to death, from that car chasing after us. Neither Damon nor I really wanted the other one, that kiss was just us clinging hard to life.

No. I can't lie. Not here. I have to be honest with myself, even if I pretend with everyone else. I wanted to kiss Damon. I wanted to touch Damon. I always have.

But I don't have to. I can stop myself, and I will. I don't want to cause Stefan any more pain.

Stefan will understand that, will understand that I'll do anything I can to make him happy again, and then he'll forgive me.

This can't be the end. I won't let it be.

Elena closed her journal and dialed Stefan's number once more, letting the phone ring until it went to voicemail and then hanging up. She'd called him several times last night, then over and over again this morning. Stefan could see her calling, she knew. He always kept his phone on. He always answered, too; he seemed to feel some obligation to be available since he had the phone with him.

The fact that he wasn't answering meant he was avoiding her on purpose.

Elena shook her head fiercely and dialed again. Stefan was going to listen to her. She wasn't going to let him turn her away. Once she explained and he forgave her, everything could go back to normal. They could end this separation that was making them both so unhappy - clearly, it hadn't worked out the way she intended.

Except, what exactly was she going to say? Elena sighed and flopped down backward onto her bed, her heart sinking. Adrenaline from the car's pursuit aside, all she could really say was that she hadn't meant for the kiss with Damon to happen, that she didn't want him, not really. She wanted Stefan. All she could tell him was that it wasn't something she had expected or planned. That Damon wasn't the one she wanted. Not truly. That she would always choose Stefan.

That would have to be enough. Elena dialed again.

This time, Stefan picked up.

"Elena," he said flatly.

"Stefan, please listen to me," Elena said in a rush. "I'm so sorry. I never - "

"I don't want to talk about this," Stefan said, cutting her off. "Please stop calling me."

"But, please, Stefan - "

"I love you, but..." Stefan's voice was soft but cold. "I don't think we can be together. Not if I can't trust you." The line went dead. Elena pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a moment, puzzled, before she realized what had happened. Stefan, dear, darling Stefan who had always been there for her, who loved her no matter what she did, had hung up on her.

Meredith pulled one foot up behind her back, held it in both hands, breathed deep, and slowly pulled the foot higher, stretching her quadriceps muscle.

It felt good to stretch, to get a little blood flowing after her late night. She was looking forward to sparring with Samantha. There was a new move Meredith had figured out, a little something kickboxing inspired, that she thought Sam was going to love, once she got over the shock of being knocked down by Meredith once again. Samantha had been getting faster and more sure of herself as they kept working out together, and Meredith definitely wanted to keep her on her toes.

That was, it would be terrific to spar with Samantha, if Samantha ever actual y arrived. Meredith glanced at her watch. Sam was almost twenty minutes late.

Of course, they'd been out late the night before. But still , it wasn't like Samantha not to show up when she said she was going to. Meredith turned on her phone to see if she had a message, then called Samantha. No answer.

Meredith left a quick voicemail, then hung up and went back to stretching, trying to ignore the faint quiver of unease running through her. She circled her shoulders, stretched her arms behind her back.

Maybe Samantha just forgot and had her phone turned off. Maybe she overslept. Samantha was a hunter; she wasn't in danger from whoever - or whatever - was stalking the campus.

Sighing, Meredith gave up on her workout routine. She wasn't going to be able to focus until she checked on Samantha, even though the other girl was probably fine.

Undoubtedly fine. Scooping up her backpack, she headed for the door. She could get in a run on the way over.

The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and Meredith's feet pounded the paths in a regular rhythm as she wove between people wandering around campus. By the time she reached Samantha's dorm, she was thinking that maybe Sam would want to go for a nice long run with her instead of sparring today.

She tapped on Samantha's door, calling, "Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" The door, not latched, drifted open a little.

"Samantha?" Meredith said, pushing it open farther.

The smell hit her first. Like rust and salt, with an underlying odor of decay, it was so strong Meredith staggered backward, clapping a hand over her nose and mouth.

Despite the smell , Meredith couldn't at first understand what was all over the walls. Paint? she wondered, her brain feeling sluggish and slow. Why would Samantha be painting? It was so red. She walked through the door slowly, although something in her was starting to scream.

No, no, get away.

Blood. Bloodbloodbloodblood. Meredith wasn't feeling slow and sluggish anymore: her heart was pounding, her head was spinning, her breath was coming hard and fast.

There was death in this room.

She had to see. She had to see Samantha. Despite every nerve in her body urging her to run, to fight, Meredith kept moving forward.

Samantha lay on her back, the bed beneath her soaked red with blood. She looked like she had been ripped apart.

Her open eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, unblinking.

She was dead.

Chapter Twenty-Six

"Are you sure you don't want us to call your parents, miss?" The campus security officer's voice was gruff but kind, and his eyes were worried.

For a second, Meredith let herself picture having the kind of parents he must be imagining: ones who would swoop in to rescue their daughter, wrap her up and take her home until the horrible images of her friend's death faded.

Her parents would just tell her to get on with the job. Tel her that any other reaction was a failure. If she let herself be weak, more people would die.

More so because Samantha had been a hunter, from a family of hunters, like Meredith. Meredith knew exactly what her father would have said if she had called him. "Let this be a lesson to you. You are never safe."

"I'll be okay," she told the security guard. "My roommates are upstairs."

He let her go, watching her climb the stairs with a distressed expression. "Don't worry, miss," he called. "The police will get this guy."

Meredith bit back her first reply, which was that he seemed to be putting a lot of faith in a police force that had yet to find any clues as to the whereabouts of the missing people or to solve Christopher's murder. He was only trying to comfort her. She nodded to him and gave a little wave.

She hadn't been any more successful than the police, not even with Samantha's help. She hadn't been trying hard enough, had been too distracted by the new place, the new people.

Why now? Meredith wondered suddenly. It hadn't occurred to her before, but this was the first death, attack, or disappearance that took place in a dorm room instead of out on the quad or paths of the campus. Whatever this was, it came after Samantha specifically.

Meredith remembered the dark figure she chased away after it attacked a girl, a girl who said she didn't remember anything. Meredith recalled the flash of pale hair as the figure turned away. Did Samantha die because they got too close to the killer?

Her parents were right. No one was ever safe. She needed to work harder, needed to get on with the job and follow up on every lead.

Upstairs, Bonnie's bed was empty. Elena looked up from where she was lying, curled up on her bed. Part of Meredith noted that Elena's face was wet with tears and knew that usual y she would have dropped everything to comfort her friend, but now she had to focus on finding Samantha's killer.

Meredith crossed to her own closet, opened it, and pulled out a heavy black satchel and the case for her hunter's stave.

"Where's Bonnie?" she asked, tossing the satchel onto her bed and unbuckling it.

"She left before I got up," Elena answered, her voice shaky. "I think she had a study group this morning.

Meredith, what's going on?"

Meredith flipped the satchel open and began to pull out her knives and throwing stars.

"What's going on?" Elena asked again, more insistently, her eyes wide.

"Samantha's dead," Meredith said, testing the edge of a knife against her thumb. "She was murdered in her bed by whatever's been stalking this campus, and we need to stop it." The knife could be sharper - Meredith had been letting her weapons maintenance slide - and she dug in the bag for a whetstone.

"What?" Elena said. "Oh, no, oh, Meredith, I'm so sorry." Tears began to run down her face again, and Meredith looked over at her, holding out the bag with the stave in it.

"There's a small black box in my desk with little bottles of different poison extracts inside it," she said. "Wolfsbane, vervain, snake venoms. We don't know what we're dealing with exactly, so you'd better fil the hypodermics with a variety of things. Be careful," she added.

Elena's mouth dropped open, and then, after a few seconds, she closed it firmly and nodded, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. Meredith knew that her message - mourn later, act now - had been received and that Elena, as always, would work with her.

Elena put the stave on her bed and found the box of poisons in Meredith's desk. Meredith watched as Elena figured out how to fil the tiny hypodermics inset in the ironwood of the stave, her steady fingers pulling them out and working them cautiously open. Once she was sure Elena knew what she was doing, Meredith went back to sharpening her knife.

"They must have come after Samantha on purpose. She wasn't a chance victim," Meredith said, her eyes on the knife as she drew it rhythmical y against the whetstone. "I think we need to assume that whoever this is knows we're hunting him, and that therefore we're in danger." She shuddered, remembering her friend's body. "Samantha's death was brutal."

"A car tried to run me and Damon down last night," Elena said. "We had been trying to investigate something weird in the library, but I don't know if that's why. I couldn't get a look at the driver."

Meredith paused in her knife sharpening. "I told you that Samantha and I chased away someone attacking a girl on campus," she said thoughtful y, "but I didn't tell you one thing, because I wasn't sure. I'm stil not sure." She told Elena about her impressions of the black-clad figure, including the momentary impression of paleness below the hoodie, of almost white hair.

Elena frowned, her fingers faltering on the staff.

"Zander?" she asked.

They both looked at Bonnie's unmade bed.

"She really likes him," Meredith said slowly. "Wouldn't she know if there was something wrong with him? You know..." She made a vague gesture around her head, trying to indicate Bonnie's history of visions.

"We can't count on that," Elena said, frowning. "And she doesn't remember the things she sees. I don't think he's right for Bonnie," she continued. "He's so - I mean, he's good-looking, and friendly, but he seems off somehow, doesn't he? And his friends are jerks. I know it's a long way from having terrible friends to being dangerous enough to do something like this, but I don't trust him."

"Can you ask Stefan to watch him?" Meredith asked. "I know you're taking a break from dating, but this is important, and a vampire would be the best one to keep an eye on him." Stefan looked so sad the other night, she thought distantly. Why shouldn't Elena call him? Life was short. She felt the blade of the knife against her thumb again. Better. Putting the sharpened knife down, she reached for another.

Elena wasn't answering, and Meredith looked up to see her staring hard at the stave, her mouth trembling. "I -

Stefan isn't talking to me," she said in a little burst. "I don't think - I don't know if he'd help us." She closed her mouth firmly, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

"Oh," Meredith said. It was hard to imagine Stefan not doing what Elena wanted, but it was also clear that Elena didn't want to ask him. "Should I call Damon?" she suggested reluctantly. The older vampire was a pain, and she didn't real y trust him, but he was certainly good at being sneaky.

Elena sucked in a breath and then nodded briskly, her mouth set. "No, I'll call him," she said. "I'll ask Damon to investigate Zander."

Meredith sighed and leaned back against the wall, letting the knife drop onto her bed. Suddenly, she was terribly tired. Waiting for Samantha in the gym that morning seemed like a million years ago, but it still wasn't even lunchtime. She and Elena both looked at Bonnie's bed again.

"We have to talk to her about Zander, don't we?" Elena asked quietly. "We have to ask her whether he was with her al last night. And we have to warn her." Meredith nodded and closed her eyes, letting her head rest against the coolness of the wall , then opened them again. Tired as she was, she knew the images of Samantha's death would come back to her if she let herself pause for even a moment. She didn't have time to rest, not while the killer was out there. "She's not going to be happy about it."

Chapter Twenty-Seven
  
Bounce

Bounce

Bounce

Swish

Catch

Bounce

Bounce

Swish

Catch

Stefan stood on the free-throw line of the empty basketball court, mechanically dribbling and throwing the ball through the net. He felt empty inside, an automaton making perfect identical shots.

He didn't real y love basketball. For him, it lacked both the satisfying contact of football and the mathematical precision of pool. But it was something to do. He'd been up all night and al morning, and he couldn't stand the endless pacing of his own feet around the campus, or the sight of the four walls of his room.

What was he going to do now? There didn't seem to be much point to going to school without Elena beside him. He tried to block out his memories of the centuries of wandering the world alone, without her, without Damon, that preceded his coming to Fell 's Church. He was shutting down his emotions as hard as he could, forcing himself numb, but he couldn't help dimly wondering if centuries of loneliness were in store for him again.

"Quite a talent you got there," a shadow said, stepping away from the bleachers. "We should have recruited you for the basketball team, too."

"Matt," Stefan acknowledged, making another basket, then tossing the ball to him.

Matt lined up careful y to the basket and shot, and it circled the rim before dropping through.

Stefan waited while Matt ran to get the ball , then turned to him. "Were you looking for me?" he asked, careful y not asking if Elena had sent him.

Looking surprised, Matt shook his head. "Nah. I like to shoot baskets when I've got some thinking to do. You know."

"What's going on?" Stefan asked.

Matt rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "There was this girl who I kind of liked, who I've been thinking about for a while, wanting to ask out. And, uh, it turns out she already has a boyfriend."

"Oh." After a few minutes, Stefan realized he ought to respond with something more. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah." Matt sighed. "She's real y special. I thought - I don't know, it would be nice to have something like what you and Elena have. Someone to love."

Stefan winced. It felt like Matt had twisted a knife in his gut. He flung the ball at the basket, not aiming this time, and it bounced back at them hard off the backboard. Matt jumped to catch it, then moved toward him, holding out a hand. "Hey, hey, Stefan. Take it easy. What is it?"

"Elena and I aren't seeing each other anymore," Stefan said flatly, trying to ignore the stab of pain from saying the words. "She - I saw her kissing Damon."

Matt looked at Stefan silently for what felt like a long time, his pale blue eyes steady and compassionate. Stefan was struck sharply by the memory that Matt had loved Elena, too, and that they had been together before Stefan came into the picture.

"Look," Matt said final y. "You can't control Elena. If there's one thing I know about her - and I've known her for our whole lives - it's that she's always going to do what she wants to do, no matter what gets in her way. You can't stop her." Stefan began to nod, hot tears burning behind his eyes. "But," Matt added, "I also know that, in the end, you're the one for her. She's never felt the way she does about you for anyone else. And, y'know, I'm starting to discover that there are other girls out there, but I don't think you're going to. Whatever's going on with Damon, Elena will come back to you. And you'd be an idiot not to let her, because she's the only one for you."

Stefan rubbed the bridge of his nose. He felt breakable, like his bones were made of glass. "I don't know, Matt," he said tiredly.

Matt grinned sympathetically. "Yeah, but I do." He tossed Stefan the ball and Stefan caught it automatically.

"Want to play Horse?"

He was tired and heartsick, but, as he dribbled the ball , thinking that he'd have to take it a tiny bit easy to give Matt a chance, Stefan felt a stirring of hope. Maybe Matt was right.

"Are you crazy?" Bonnie shouted. She had always thought that "seeing red" was just a metaphor, but she was so angry that she actually was seeing the faintest scarlet touch on everything, as if the whole room had been dipped in blood-tinged water.

Meredith and Elena exchanged glances. "We're not saying there is anything wrong with Zander," Meredith said gently. "It's just that we want you to be careful."

"Careful?" Bonnie gave a mean, bitter little laugh and shoved past them to grab a duffel bag out of her closet.

"You're just jealous," she said without looking at them. She unzipped the bag and started to dump in some clothes.

"Jealous of what, Bonnie?" Elena asked. "I don't want Zander."

"Jealous because I'm finally the one who has a boyfriend," Bonnie retorted. "Alaric is back in Fell 's Church, and you broke up with both your boyfriends, and you don't like seeing me happy when you're miserable." Elena shut her mouth tightly, white spots showing on her cheekbones, and turned away. Eyeing Bonnie carefully, Meredith said, "I told you what I saw, Bonnie. It's nothing definite, but I'm afraid that the person who attacked that girl might have been Zander. Can you tell me where he was after you two left the party last night?" Focusing on stuffing her favorite jeans into what was already starting to seem like an overcrowded bag, Bonnie didn't answer. She could feel an annoying tell tale flush spreading up her neck and over her face. Fine, this was probably enough clothes. She could grab her toothbrush and moisturizer from the bathroom on her way down the hall .

Meredith came toward her, hands open and outstretched placatingly. "Bonnie," she said gently, "we do want you to be happy. We real y do. But we want you to be safe, too, and we're worried that Zander might not be everything you think he is. Maybe you could stay away from him, just for a little while? While we check things out?" Bonnie zipped up her bag, threw it over her shoulder, and headed for the door, brushing past Meredith without a glance. She was planning to just walk out but, at the last minute, wheeled around in the doorway to face them again, unable to bite back what she was thinking.

"What's killing me here," she said, "is what hypocrites you two are. Don't you remember when Mr. Tanner was murdered? Or the tramp who was almost killed under Wickery Bridge?" She was actually shaking with fury.

"Everyone in the whole town thought Stefan was responsible. Al the evidence pointed at him. But Meredith and I didn't think so, because Elena told us she knew Stefan couldn't have done it, that he wouldn't have done it.

And we believed you, even though you didn't have any proof to give us," she said, staring at Elena, who dropped her eyes to the floor. "I would have thought you could trust me the same way." She looked back and forth between them. "The fact that you're suspecting Zander even though I'm standing here, telling you he would never hurt anybody, makes it clear that you don't respect me," she said coldly.

"Maybe you never did."

Bonnie stomped out of the room, hitching the strap of the duffel bag higher on her shoulder.

"Bonnie" she heard behind her and turned to look back one more time. Meredith and Elena were both reaching after her, identical expressions of frustration on their faces.

"I'm going to Zander's," Bonnie told them curtly. That would show them what she thought about their suspicions of him.

She slammed the door behind her.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Of course Bonnie's upset," Alaric said. "This is her first real boyfriend. But the three of you have been through a lot together. She'll come back to you, and she'll listen to you, once she gets a chance to cool down." His voice was deep and loving, and Meredith squeezed her eyes shut and held the phone more tightly to her ear, picturing his grad-student apartment with the cozy brown couch and the milk-crate bookshelves. She had never wished so hard that she was there.

"What if something happens to her, though?" Meredith said. "I can't wait around for Bonnie to get over being mad at me if she's in danger."

Alaric made a thinking noise into the phone, and Meredith could picture his forehead scrunching in that cute way it did when he was analyzing a problem from different angles.

"Well," he said at last, "Bonnie's been spending a lot of time with Zander, right? A lot of time alone? And she's been fine thus far. I think we can conclude that, even if Zander is the one behind the attacks on campus, he's not planning to hurt Bonnie."

"I think your reasoning is sort of specious there," Meredith said, feeling oddly comforted by his words nevertheless.

Alaric gave a small huff of surprised laughter. "Don't call my bluff," he said. "I have a reputation for being logical." Meredith heard the creak of Alaric's desk chair on the other end of the line and imagined him leaning back, phone tucked into his shoulder, hands behind his head. "I'm so sorry about Samantha," he said, voice sobering.

Meredith nestled farther into her bed, pressing her face against the pillow. "I can't talk about it yet," she said, closing her eyes. "I just have to figure out who killed her."

"I don't know if this is going to be useful," Alaric said,

"but I've been doing some research on the history of Dalcrest."

"Like the ghosts and weird mysteries around campus Elena's professor was talking about in class?"

"Well, there's even more to the history of the college than he told them about," Alaric said. Meredith could hear him shuffling papers, probably flicking through the pages of one of his research notebooks. "Dalcrest appears to be something of a paranormal hotspot. There have been incidents that sound like vampire and werewolf attacks throughout its history, and this isn't the first time there's been a string of mysterious disappearances on campus."

"Really?" Meredith sat up. "How can the college stay open if people disappear all the time?"

"It's not all the time," Alaric replied. "The last major wave of disappearances was during the Second World War.

There was a lot of population mobility at the time, and, although the missing students left worried friends and family behind, the police assumed that the young men who disappeared had run off to enlist and the young women to marry soldiers or to work in munitions factories. The fact that the students never turned up again seems to have been disregarded, and the cases weren't viewed as related."

"Super work on the police department's part," Meredith said acidly.

"There's a lot of weird behavior on campus, too," Alaric said. "Sororities in the seventies practicing black magic, that kind of thing."

"Any of those sororities still around?" Meredith asked.

"Not those specific ones," Alaric said, "but it's something to keep in mind. There might be something about the campus that makes people more likely to experiment with the supernatural."

"And what is that?" Meredith asked, flopping down on her back again. "What's your theory, Professor?"

"Well, it's not my theory," Alaric said, "but I found someone online who suggested that Dalcrest may be somewhere with a huge concentration of crossing ley lines, the same way that Fell's Church is. This whole part of Virginia has a lot of supernatural power, but some parts even more than others."

Meredith frowned. Ley lines, the strong lines of Power running beneath the surface of the earth, shone like beacons to the supernatural world.

"And some people theorize that, where there are ley lines, the barriers between our world and the Dark Dimensions are thinner," Alaric continued. Wincing, Meredith remembered the creatures she, Bonnie, and Elena had faced in the Dark Dimension. If they were able to cross over, to come to Dalcrest as the kitsune had come to Fell's Church, everyone was in danger.

"We don't have any proof of that, though," Alaric said reassuringly, hurrying to fil up the silence between them.

"Al we know is that Dalcrest has a history of supernatural activity. We don't even know for sure if that's what we're facing now."

An image of Samantha's blank dead eyes filled Meredith's mind. There had been a smear of blood across her cheek below her right eye. The murder scene had been so gruesome, and Samantha had been killed so horrifically.

Meredith believed in her heart of hearts that Alaric's theories must be correct: there was no way Samantha had been murdered by a human being.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"You should be proud." The Vitale Society pledges were lined up in the underground meeting room, just like they had been the first day when they removed their blindfolds.

Under the arch in front of them, the Vitales in black masks watched quietly.

Ethan paced among the pledges, eyes bright. "You should be proud," he repeated. "The Vitale Society offered you an opportunity. The chance to become one of us, to join an organization that can give you great power, help you on your road to success."

Ethan paused and gazed at them. "Not all of you were worthy," he said seriously. "We watched you, you know. Not just when you were here, or doing pledge events, but all the time. The candidates who couldn't cut it, who didn't merit joining our ranks, were eliminated."

Matt looked around. It was true, there were fewer of them now than there had been at their first meeting. That tall bearded senior who was some kind of biogenetics whiz was gone. A skinny blonde girl who Matt remembered doggedly grinding her way through the run wasn't there either. There were only ten pledges left.

"Those of you who remain?" Ethan lifted his hands like he was giving them some kind of benediction. "At last it is time for you to be initiated, to fully become members of the Vitale Society, to learn our secrets and walk our path." Matt felt a little sWellof pride as Ethan smiled at them all . It felt like Ethan's eyes lingered longer on Matt than on the others, like his smile for Matt was just a bit warmer. Like Matt was, among all these exceptional pledges, special.

Ethan started to walk through the crowd and talk again, this time about the preparations that needed to be made for their initiation. He asked a couple of pledges to bring roses and lilies to decorate the room - it sounded like he was expecting them to buy out a couple of flower stores -

others to find candles. One person was assigned to buy a specific kind of wine. Frankly, it reminded Matt of Elena and the other girls planning a high school dance.

"Okay," Ethan said, indicating Chloe and a long-haired girl named Anna, "I'd like you two to go to the herb store and get yerba mata, guarana, hawthorn, ginseng, chamomile, and danshen. Do you want to write that down?" Matt perked up a little. Herbs were slightly more mystical and mysterious, befitting a secret society, although ginseng and chamomile just reminded him of the tea his mom drank when she had a cold.

Ethan moved on from the girls, his eyes fixed on Matt, and Matt prepared to be sent in search of punch or ranch dip.

But Ethan, locking eyes with Matt, inclined his head a little, indicating that Matt should join him a little apart from the rest of the group. Matt jogged over to meet Ethan, slightly intrigued. What couldn't Ethan say in front of the others?

"I've got a special job for you, Matt," Ethan said, rubbing his hands together in obvious pleasure at the prospect. "I want you to invite your friend Stefan Salvatore to join us."

"Sorry?" Matt said, confused.

"To be a Vitale Society member," Ethan explained. "We missed him when we selected candidates at the beginning of the year, but now that I've met him, I think - we think" - and he waved a hand at the quietly watching masked figures on the other side of the room - "that he would be an ideal fit for us."

Matt frowned. He didn't want to look like an idiot in front of Ethan, but something struck him as off about this. "But he hasn't done any of the pledge stuff. Isn't it too late for him to join this year?"

Ethan smiled slightly, just a thin tilting of his lips. "I think we can make an exception for Stefan."

"But - " Matt began to protest, then instead smiled back at Ethan. "I'll call him and see if he's interested," he promised.

Ethan patted him lightly on the back. "Thank you, Matt.

You're a natural for Vitale, you know. I'm sure you can convince him."

As Ethan walked away, Matt watched him, wondering why the praise felt sour this time.

It was because it didn't make sense, Matt decided, walking back to his dorm after the pledge meeting. What was so special about Stefan that Ethan had decided they had to have him pledge the Vitale Society now instead of just waiting till next year? Okay, yes: vampire - that was special about Stefan, but no one knew that. And he was handsome and sophisticated in that ever-so-slightly European way that had all the girls back in high school falling at his feet, but he wasn't that handsome, and there were plenty of foreign students on campus.

Matt stopped stock-still. Was he jealous? It wasn't fair, maybe, that Stefan could just waltz in and be immediately offered something that Matt had worked for, that Matt had thought was only his.

But so what? It wasn't Stefan's fault if Ethan wanted to give him special treatment. Stefan was hurting after his breakup with Elena; maybe it would do him good to join the Vitale. And it would be fun to have one of his friends in the Society. Stefan deserved it, really: he was brave and noble, a leader, even if there was no way Ethan and the others could have known that.

Firmly pushing away any remaining niggle of not fair, Matt pulled out his cell phone and called Stefan.

"Hey," he said. "Listen, do you remember that guy Ethan?"

"I guess I don't understand," Zander said. His arm around Bonnie's shoulder was strong and solidly reassuring, and his T-shirt, where she had buried her face against him, smelled of clean cotton and fabric softener. "What were you and your friends fighting about?"

"The point is, they don't trust my judgment," Bonnie said, wiping her eyes. "If it had been either of them, they wouldn't have been so quick to jump to conclusions."

"Conclusions about what?" Zander asked, but Bonnie didn't answer. After a moment, Zander reached out and ran one finger gently along her jawline and over her lips, his eyes intent on her face. "Of course you can stay here as long as you want to, Bonnie. I'm at your service," he said in an oddly formal tone.

Bonnie looked around Zander's room with interest.

She'd never been here before; in fact, she'd had to call him to find out what dorm he lived in, and how weird was that for a girlfriend to not know? But if she'd tried to picture what his room would be like, she would have assumed it would be messy and very guyish: old pizza boxes on the floor, dirty laundry, weird smells. Maybe a poster with a half-naked girl on it. But, in fact, it was just the opposite. Everything was very bare and uncluttered: nothing on top of the school-issued dresser and desk, no pictures on the walls or rug on the floor. The bed was neatly made.

The single bed. That they were both sitting on. Her and her boyfriend.

Bonnie felt a flush rise up over her face. She silently cursed her habit of blushing - she was sure that even her ears were bright red. She'd just asked her boyfriend if she could move into his room. And sure, he was gorgeous and lovely and kissing him was probably the most amazing experience of her life so far, but she'd just started kissing him last night. What if he thought she was suggesting something more?

Zander was eyeing her thoughtfully as Bonnie blushed.

"You know," he said, "I can sleep on the floor. I'm not - um -

expecting - " He broke off and now he was blushing, too.

The sight of flustered Zander immediately made Bonnie feel better. She patted him on the arm. "I know," she said. "I told Meredith and Elena you were a good guy." Zander frowned. "What? Do they think I'm not?" When Bonnie didn't answer, he slowly released her, leaning back to take a close look at her face. "Bonnie? When you had this big fight with your friends, were you fighting about me?" Bonnie shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Okay. Wow." Zander ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I know Elena and I didn't really hit it off, but I'm sure we'll get along better when we get to know each other. This will all blow over then. It's not worth it to stop being friends with them."

"It's not - " Tears sprang into Bonnie's eyes. Zander was being so sweet, and he had no idea how Elena and Meredith had wronged him. "I can't tell you," she said.

"Bonnie?" Zander pulled her closer. "Don't cry. It can't be that bad." Bonnie began to cry harder, tears streaming down her cheeks, and he held on to her. "Just tell me," he said.

"It's not that they just don't like you, Zander," she said between sobs. "They think you might be the killer."

"What? Why?" Zander recoiled, almost leaping across the bed away from her, his face white and shocked.

Bonnie explained what Meredith thought she saw, her impression of Zander's hair beneath the hoodie of the attacker she chased off. "Which is so unfair," she finished,

"because even if she did see what she thought she saw, it's not like you're the only person with really light blond hair on campus. They're being ridiculous."

Zander sucked in a long breath, his eyes wide, and sat still and silent for a few seconds. Then he reached out and put a gentle hand under Bonnie's chin, turning her face so they were gazing straight into each other's eyes.

"I would never hurt you, Bonnie," he said slowly. "You know me, you see me. Do you think I'm a killer?"

"No," Bonnie said, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't. I never did."

Zander leaned forward and kissed her, his lips soft against hers, as if they were sealing some kind of pact.

Bonnie closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss.

She was falling in love with Zander, she knew. And, despite the fact that he had run off so suddenly last night, just before Samantha's murder, she was sure he could never be a killer.